Different Strengths
by dancethenight-03
Summary: Philomène Paradis wanted to see the world. First stop; New York, where she meets a Peter Parker who is nothing but grief and pain, and to whose life she tries to bring as much light as she can during her brief stay. 5 months of trouble later, Philomène Paradis finds herself again on Peter's doorstep. But this time, she's the one who will be needing his help. Post-TASM2 Peter/OC
1. Chapter 1

Yes, I'm trying again. I saw Spider-Man 2 again last night, since it just came out in DVD, and it gave me new ideas. For those who read the other story I started; yes, it's the same OC. Yes, the story is going in the same direction, I just can't decide on _how_ it does! Thanks for bearing with my mental instability and incapacity of making a decision. I'll try to stick to this one. Enjoy it! (while you can…) I'm a demon without even meaning it… Ok, 'nuff said. Go on, read!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Spider-Man, nor anything related to the Marvel Universe. And I never will. *moans in agony* I only own my OC Philomène.

* * *

_Introductions_

Philomène Paradis had arrived shortly after Spider-Man's disappearance. New York's not safe, were the media saying. Don't go in New York, it's dangerous; Spider-Man is not there to help you.

What, were the police so helpless they couldn't handle a few weeks without the masked vigilante? she had thought mockingly. They had been alright for centuries before Spider-Man had arrived, so why now more than any other time?

That is why she had gone to New York City anyways. She didn't mind the thrill, in fact she craved it. Traveling was the best way of meeting new challenges, she believed.

"Where are you going to stay at night?" had asked her best friend Frederique Forest, while petting Ben, her big black dog lounging on the sofa. "You said it yourself, you're broke!"

Philomène Paradis had smiled at her worries: Fred didn't know any other way of traveling than staying in expensive hotels or resorts.

"It's called couchsurfing, big. You just ask some random person who lives in the city you'd like to visit to host you for a few days. It's free and you get to meet real nice people."

Fred's pretty face had scrunched into a grimace.

"Is it not… I don't know… you could stumble across some… _really_ weird people."

Philo had barked a short laugh at that. She knew what her friend meant.

"That's the thrill, girl." She sat from her upside down position on the sofa. "It's a way to learn life, y'know."

No, Fred didn't know. She came from a quite wealthy family, thus didn't see the point in living in relative simplicity when you could have it all.

The blonde-haired girl had stared a bit at the short-haired brunette, and rolled her eyes.

"You're weird."

"I know. You tell me all the time." The other had answered with a cheeky smile.

But Fred wasn't listening anymore.

"Hey, look! I got a new match on Tinder!"

Ben let out a sleepy whine as it was Philo's turn to roll her eyes skywards.

Some people will never change, she had thought with a smirk.

She had spent days sending messages, asking for a place to stay in New York. It seemed everyone was busy on the week she had chosen to visit the City That Never Slept.

After many refusals, she had received a message from a young man about her age, who lived in Queens. Not exactly downtown, she had thought, but it'd have to do.

Philo had answered hurriedly, making sure he could really host her for a whole four days.

_Yeah, provided that you help me a bit with the laundry and the cooking_, had been his written answer.

From what Philo had understood, he was living with his aunt, who was working a lot to make ends meet and didn't have much time to do her usual household chores.

Philo could live with that.

_Sure_, she had written back, and that was settled. She was to leave in a week, and her excitement was growing with each day that passed.

"What's his name?"

"Peter."

"Is he cute?"

Of course she had to ask.

"You know, I think he is. But that wouldn't change anything, now, would it? He's just my host," Philo had replied teasingly.

"No, no no, of course not."

Fred often found herself caught in her own shallowness.

The two girls had walked slowly in the greening park. Soon enough, it would turn all shades of red, orange and yellow. That was what autumn looked like in Montreal. But for now, it was still August, and the weather was warm and sunny.

"I might just meet Spider-Man!" Philo had exclaimed out of the blue.

"Yeah, right. I don't think you two would get along very well, you know, a clumsy girl like you and an acrobat? Not sure," Fred had laughed.

Philo had pouted, but only for the act. Her chuckles had quickly joined her best friend's.

"I think I might miss you. Maybe," she had muttered.

Fred had granted her a very toothy and very fake smile.

The girls had burst out laughing once again.

Shortly after that, Philo had hugged her parents, fist bumped her brother and quickly clasped her younger sister.

"_Amuse-toi bien_," had said her father in his usual worriless way as they had gathered in front of the house for a last goodbye.

"_Fais attention_," had advised her mother in her usual deadly serious way.

Philo had nodded to both of them, grinning from ear to ear, jumped into her old wreck of a car, checked if she had everything, and taken off.

It was a six hours drive. She had turned on the radio, listening for traffic indications or routes to avoid. That's when she had heard about Spider-Man's unfortunate disappearance.

"What the hell," she had muttered darkly. "They think they're going to keep tourists away with that?"

But then she had re-thought her own statement, and smiled devilishly.

"If so, city's all mine. Cheap food and no queues. Roadtrip!" She had called happily.

She had put on one of the many cd's she had brought and started singing along loudly. The weather was beautiful, she was alone, she was free, and she was going to visit every last bit of the United States.

* * *

Peter's life was a haze. It had been a week since Gwen… had left, and he couldn't get himself to feel anything. It was only emptiness. Everything inside felt like oblivion. When he had seen her broken body and had realized what it meant, something cold had started growing inside of him, at first searing his insides, but eventually numbing him completely, to the point where he couldn't feel anything at all. The winter inside was not raging, it was just… eternally, desperately still and quiet. Sometimes, deep in the night, the ice that was puncturing his heart and lungs would wake him up harshly, becoming so cold it would _burn_, sending him to the ground, gasping for fresh air as the tears would bite his skin like too many reminders of his failure.

He went to see her every single day. Every morning, his footsteps would carry him to the cemetery without him even realizing it, and he would just stand there, staring at her grave. Grave. Another word he couldn't comprehend. Another concept that left him falling in his own emptiness. He was not staring at her beautiful and delicate face, her soft blond hair, her deep sea-green eyes. No, he was staring at her _grave_.

And Peter couldn't find anything to say. He wanted to speak, he wanted to say he was sorry, he wanted to _tell_ her that he would do anything to go back and make things different. But there was nothing, no word in any language on this planet that would, that could excuse what he had done.

So he would just stand and stare through the haze that had become his life.

* * *

**Translations:** "Have fun" says the father, and "be careful" says the mother.

Ok, so here we go, first chapter! I just wanted to give an idea of the state of mind our two protagonists were in. Tell me what you think! Is the Philo believable? And what about Peter's grief? Talk to me. I want to know _everything_!


	2. First Impressions

Hey there! Are y'all ready for a second chapter (or a first one, considering the other was a prologue)?

**IJustWannaBeAHero**: Thanks for your review, buddy, and all I have to say about it is: wait for it!

Thanks to all of those who followed/favorited the story! It keeps me going!

Oh and… I do _not _own The Amazing Spider-Man. (At least not yet. Muahahahahaha!)

* * *

_Day 1_

Philo was walking quickly in the late summer rain. She had arrived in New York about an hour ago, and had struggled into the traffic to find a parking place near the address written on the small piece of paper she was now clutching in her hand. Her car was parked about a kilometer from Peter's house, but she didn't mind walking or getting soaked; she was too happy to finally be there. She could make out the ghostly lights of the skyscrapers of Manhattan in the distance, the sheer sight reminding her of where she was and making her walk with renewed vigor, a small skip in her steps.

She couldn't keep the wide smile from her face as she knocked on the door of the cute suburb house that was Peter's. She was probably looking like hell; hair dripping and clothes sticking to her skin, but she was way too excited to think about that. She heard footsteps in the house and she fidgeted in impatience.

The door finally opened, letting out a young, brown-haired, very grim-looking boy. Peter, she realized.

"Hi!" Philo all but squeaked, eyes shining and smile almost hurting her cheek muscles.

Peter didn't reply right away, instead furrowing his brow.

"Hi…" he said slowly.

Philo's expression faltered instantly when she noticed the look on his face: his eyes were red and puffy, like he had been crying for a long time, and were circled with wide purple bags.

"Hey," she added uncertainly, "I'm Philomène."

Peter didn't answer, nor did he give any indication that he had heard her.

"Paradis? Philomène Paradis, the couchsurfer?" She was starting to think she was not in the right place, and she looked around nervously.

But Peter's eyes lit up mildly in understanding.

He tried to smile. The result made Philo wince.

"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, stepping aside to let her in, "I had completely forgotten about that. Sorry, I'm sorry."

Philomène walked in the small doorway, looking at him hesitantly.

"It's okay, don't worry about it." She put her bright smile back on. "I'm here now, so it's no problem!"

"Yeah…" Peter agreed gloomily, his expression contradicting his statement.

Philo dropped her soaking wet backpack on the carpet and heard a different voice calling from what had to be the kitchen.

"Who is it, Peter dear?" A dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway, wiping off her hands on a kitchen towel. Peter didn't reply, just stared at his feet and vaguely pointed his thumb at her.

"It's, uh…"

"Oh, my! What date is it today?" The woman suddenly exclaimed. "We can't already be the 25th?"

"Well, yes," Philo answered sheepishly since Peter seemed determined in glaring a hole through his already worn shoes.

"I'm sorry I surprised you," she added, running her hand through her hair, "I should have called when I arrived in New York…"

"Oh no, dear, it's not your fault, there's only so much that has happened recently," the older woman said with a glint of sorrow, "we had completely forgotten about your arrival. I'm May, by the way, Peter's aunt." She extended her now dry hand towards Philo, who shook it frankly, retrieving a bit of her earlier good mood.

"It's very nice to meet you, Ma'am," she greeted, looking at her in the eye like she had been taught to in order make a good first impression. May looked tired as well, but not as much as Peter. Philo glanced at said boy, who was starting to squirm antsily.

"Okay, can we eat, now, Aunt May?" he asked dryly, already walking towards the table.

Philo raised her eyebrows.

"Sure, dear, you may sit down," she added for Philomène.

"Uh," was all she could think to say.

She sat down in front of Peter, who kept looking down at the table.

Well, she thought, that's not how she had imagined her stay. She really hoped it was only a one day thing. Furthermore, she was getting confused as to why, little bit more than a week ago, in his messages, Peter had seemed like a funny and happy guy, eager to meet her, but now he was all dark and silent. Philo wondered what could have happened to him in-between.

The supper was mostly quiet, with May asking the occasional question and Philo trying to answer with as much words as possible in order to fill the lead-heavy silence. She didn't hate silence, on the contrary, some silences were light and comfortable, she knew it, but this one was wrong. Something was off, something she had missed, and she was feeling increasingly awkward.

After they had eaten (Peter mostly only poking in his plate with his fork), Philomène had insisted, despite May's protestations, to help with the dishes, and they had finally come up with a compromise. May would wash and Philo would wipe, while Peter would disappear God-knows-where. Probably in his room, Philo mused.

May showed the girl her room after that. The guest room, Philo realized, eying the small one-sized bed and the blank walls.

She thanked May before she left, and settled her backpack in a corner of the room. She sat down on the bed, testing the mattress. It would do, she decided.

Philo looked around the room, and settled on her back lazily, bringing her hands under her head. She thought about her first experience in the Parker house, about May's kindness and Peter's mood.

She sighed, thinking about tomorrow. She hoped Peter would be in a better state of mind, since he had suggested in his messages to show her around the city.

"_Ça va être lourd_…" she muttered in her mother's tongue.

* * *

**Translation:** "It's going to be heavy."

There! Chapter two. I've got a few of those that I've already written, but I like leaving them to marinade for a few days and then coming back to them, spotting mistakes and unclear sentences.

Sooooo, first meeting with Peter? How was it? And May, is she in-character? What about Philo, is she a sympathic, likeable OC? Tell me if I this gets OOC, and tell me what you think about the story to date!


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